


I'll Give You That

by wanheda_two_heda



Series: Bellarke Smut Prompts [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Roommates, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:45:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanheda_two_heda/pseuds/wanheda_two_heda
Summary: Clarke wants to know what sex is like. Bellamy offers to show her. Feelings happen.I'm bad at summaries but this is super soft/mildly praise-kinky Bellarke PWP. The dirty talk is very real. It's also the filthiest thing I've ever written, so there's that.She turns to face him once she’s inside her room, and he has to pause to take in his surroundings. Her lights are off, the room aglow in soft yellow light from the strings of fairy lights she has on her headboard and all over her bookcases and desk. It’s almost… romantic.“So, how do you want to--” she starts, but isn’t sure how to phrase her question.Bellamy reaches out and runs his fingers down her bare arm. He doesn’t miss how she shivers. “Clarke, just relax, okay?” he twines his fingers through hers. “You want this to be good, right?”





	I'll Give You That

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompts “You’re more than just a one night stand.” “I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.” “Please tell me you feel the same.” and “Friends don’t get each other off” that I combined into one fic that completely got away from me.
> 
> **_when i die and reach the gates of heaven, this fic will be cited as the reason I don’t get in._ **

Clarke takes a drink of her rum and Coke as Jasper thinks about his question. They’re sitting around the living she shares with Bellamy playing a game of Never Have I Ever as though they’re all a bunch of teenagers and not professional adults in their mid-twenties. It’s Friday night and Clarke and Bellamy’s turn to host game night which always turns into some kind of drinking game early enough in the evening. It’s hardly even nine and Bellamy’s already feeling the steady thrum of alcohol in his veins. 

“Never have I ever done molly,” Jasper finally settles on. 

Everyone chances a look around the circle, but to their general surprise, it’s Monty that drinks first. “What!” he says defensively. “I was young once!”

“That is the lamest excuse. What happened to being peer pressured into doing drugs like they always told us was going to happen?” Clarke asks, and Bellamy casts his eyes over to her, noticing the light flush that is making its way up her chest as she drinks more.

“People realized that drugs are expensive and stopped giving theirs away for free?” Miller grumbles.

The entire gang has somehow managed to fit into the less than spacious room. Miller and Jackson are lounging on the couch with Raven and Zeke at the other end, Harper sits in Monty’s lap on Bellamy’s armchair, Niylah has Octavia between her legs on the floor so she can braid the brunette’s hair, Clarke’s lounging against the sofa, leaning against Miller’s legs while Jasper and Maya rest with their backs to the half-wall separating the living room from the kitchen. Bellamy’s against the opposite end of the couch from Clarke, knowing how he tends to become more affectionate as he drinks. It’s best to keep his distance. 

“Your turn, Reyes,” Jasper prompts. 

“Never have I ever slept with a woman,” she says with a grin at her boyfriend. 

Bellamy laughs. It wouldn’t be any kind of game night if some part of it didn’t turn sexual. Jackson and Miller whoop and turn to look pointedly to look at Bellamy who rolls his eyes and drinks. A lot. It’s only fair, considering the amount of women he’s slept with. Clarke drinks, along with O and Niylah, Monty, Jasper, and Zeke.

“Let’s go, Clarke,” Raven says. “Hit us with your best shot.”

Clarke stops to think, and Bellamy tries not to stare, but everyone else looks at her expectantly, so he lets his eyes linger just a little longer. 

“Never have I ever had sex with penetration,” Clarke says with a quirk of her eyebrow. 

Bellamy chokes. The last thing he needs is to imagine Clarke having any kind of sex.

“Griffin!” Raven gasps. “ _ Any  _ penetration?”

“Nope! I’ve always been, I dunno, too nervous? Finn didn’t care as long as he got off, and Lexa was just always focused on my clit.” She shrugs. “Anyway, everyone drink.” And they do.

“Damn,” Raven says before taking a swig of her beer. “You’re kinda missing out. It’s not all about penetration, but… damn…”

* * *

 

It’s nearly midnight by the time everyone leaves, and the alcohol’s all but made its way out of Bellamy’s system. He grabs the empty bowl of chips and dips from the living room table and brings them in to the kitchen where Clarke is doing the last of the dishes.

“Have fun?” he asks her as he wraps up what’s left of the vegetable tray Raven and Zeke had brought. 

“Yeah,” she says with a smile, and damn if it doesn’t made his stomach twist to see her so happy. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Her brows are drawn together in question and she suddenly looks nervous. 

“Sure.”

“What’s it like?” she asks quizzically.

“What’s what like?” he asks, drawing a blank.

“You know, like, real sex?”

Bellamy huffs out a laugh. “You’ve had real sex. You tell me.”

“No,” she shakes her head, her lips pursed. “Not like--you know,  _ real _ sex.”

“Clarke,” he says sternly. “Penetration doesn’t make sex any more or less real.”

She sighs, frustrated. “You know what I’m trying to say.”

And for the first time, he notices the blush creeping its way up her cheeks. 

“It’s not…” he searches for the right thing to say, but then she looks at him and bites her lip and the words are out of his mouth before he even stops to think about the implications of what he’s offering. “Did you want me to show you?”

She looks at him and he watches her swallow, look him over as though she’s waiting for him to take it back. When, for some stupid reason or other, he doesn’t, she nods. 

“Can I--Can you just give me some time to get ready?” she asks quietly.

“Clarke, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I was just--” he hurries to reassure her, but she cuts him off.

“No, I kinda--I want to. I just need some time. Is that okay?”

She’s so soft and quiet that he wants to just hold her and tell her that she doesn’t need to feel any of the anxiety that she’s feeling, that he’ll take care of her if she wants him to, and if she wants to stop, he’ll stop the second he gets an ounce of hesitation. Instead, he tells her that he’s going to his room and he’ll read a book until she tells him that she’s ready.

“Thanks, Bell. For, you know, for offering, and for being cool about it.”

He swallows and kisses her hair. “Of course. What are friends for?”

* * *

 

He’s hardly read two pages in the entire time it took her to finish tidying the kitchen, shower, and get dressed. He paces his room nervously, because of course he wants this, but there’s no way it means the same thing for him as it does for Clarke. He’s been in love with her for months, and she just wants to experience something because she’s curious. Finally, she pokes her head into his room and he has to face the music.

“Your offer still stands?” she asks, her nerves showing through her easy smile.

“Ready when you are.”

“Do you mind if we do this in my room?” she asks, and she almost sounds clinical about it. 

He nods and follows her, trying not to stare at her ass as she makes her way down the hall. She’s wearing cotton pyjama pants with cartoon rabbits on them and a tank top that makes it obvious that she’s not wearing a bra. 

She turns to face him once she’s inside her room, and he has to pause to take in his surroundings. Her lights are off, the room aglow in soft yellow light from the strings of fairy lights she has on her headboard and all over her bookcases and desk. It’s almost… romantic.

“So, how do you want to--” she starts, but isn’t sure how to phrase her question.

Bellamy reaches out and runs his fingers down her bare arm. He doesn’t miss how she shivers. “Clarke, just relax, okay?” he twines his fingers through hers. “You want this to be good, right?” As he talks, he walks her back to her bed and crowds into her space when the backs of her thighs hit her mattress. Clarke can only swallow and nod. “You tell me if you change your mind at any point, but I’ve got you, Clarke. Just let me… fuck, let me…” 

She saves him from saying anything more, anything he probably shouldn’t say right at this moment by taking his hand and placing it on her hip. His fingers slip under the worn fabric of her tank, and she closes her eyes at the contact. Bellamy’s index teases the waistband of her pants, and he swears she becomes less steady on her feet, swaying towards him. 

“Lie down,” he commands softly, brushing the back of his fingers over her stomach. 

She does as he says, and he moves up the bed to lie next to her, his fingers going back to her side where her tank has ridden up. He props himself up on his elbow, turns to his side to look at her. Her pupils are blown wide, the deep ocean blue barely visible anymore, and her cheeks are flushed a gorgeous pink.

“You sure?” he asks again, because he has to be certain. 

“Yeah,” she says with a shy smile, her voice a little more than a breathless whisper. 

“Relax for me,” he says and feels her body grow soft under his touch. “I promise I won't hurt you, okay?”

Their voices are hushed, the room dim, and it feels like they're alone in the world, just him and Clarke, looking into each others’ eyes as his hand makes slow, lazy patterns over her abdomen, into the divots at her hips, over the sharp edges of her bones. The more his hand trails over her, the more her eyes grow hooded, her face flushed. 

Clarke squirms and makes an impatient, needy noise when his hand finally slips into her sleep pants. Bellamy can already feel the heat and want emanating from her. He watches as she bites her bottom lip the moment his finger slides into her folds. 

“Still good?” he confirms as he starts slowly circling her clit. 

“Uh huh,” is all she can manage as she struggles for breath, her hips canting up to meet his hand. 

With his index still massaging her clit, he stretches his middle finger down to gather the arousal at her core. He feels her whole body go stiff as she tenses, sucking in a breath and clamping her legs shut. 

“Easy, Princess,” he soothes, coaxing her legs back open. “Not yet, babe. I'll tell you when.”

She averts her eyes. “I'm sorry.”

He runs his other hand through her hair, smoothing it down and tucking his finger under her chin to angle her head back up to his. 

“Hey, come back.” She smiles shyly at him, so he keeps brushing his fingers through her blonde waves. “Don't be sorry. You trust me?” As he talks, he starts stroking her again, gentle and easy, getting her worked up. She nods. “I've got you, okay? Just you and me. You tell me when you're ready.”

He tries again, stretches his finger down to run through her arousal, coating his finger in it and running it back up her slit, each time reaching further to tease her opening a little more.

“God, Bell, that feels so good.” It’s the most she's said since they started, and the sound of her voice goes right to his dick. She's breathless and dazed, and a little whiny with need. He never thought he'd get her like this. “ _ Fuck _ . Don't stop.”

The more he works her up, the more she presses up off the bed, neck arched and exposed to him. She's breathing in eager pants, and he's dizzy with all the little sounds she keeps making. He's not thinking clearly when he noses along her jaw, his mouth finding the delicate skin over the column of her throat. He mouths at her neck, breath hot against her skin and tongue sliding out to taste what he can of her. The stimulation pulls sounds from Clarke that Bellamy’s never heard in his life and never wants to stop hearing. He sucks a bruise into her skin, and Clarke lets out a keening moan, her hand gripping his wrist so tightly that he knows her nails will leave crescent moons imprinted in his skin to remember this by. 

“Now, Bell,  _ please _ ,” she begs. 

He has to look up at her, just to make sure that she's certain about what she's asking. He finds her eyes dark and hungry, pleading silently over at him for the release he's been withholding from her. 

“Yeah?” he whispers against her shoulder. 

He can't keep looking at her when she's looking at him like that. She's so turned on that he can't even see the bright blue of the eyes he fell in love with. She nods, and he feels her hair brush against his temple. 

“Say it, baby girl,” he says, his lips ghosting over her skin. “I need you to say it.”

She shivers beneath him and relaxes her hold on his wrist, her small hand going to cover his own. Clarke urges his head up, nosing at the side of his face. When he meets her eyes, they're fully open and focused on him. Holding his gaze, she guides his hand down further between her legs. 

“Bellamy Blake,” she pants, “I swear to god that if you don't fuck me with your fingers right now, I'm going to scream.”

He grins at her and brings his mouth to her ear. “I'm going to make you scream anyway, Princess,” he promises before sinking a finger into her tight cunt. 

Clarke’s cry as she gets used to being stretched for the first time ever is sharp and high but ends on a sigh that has his vision blurring. He ducks his head, his forehead again the side of her neck and breathes her in. 

“God, you're so tight and warm.  _ Fuck _ ,” he growls, “you'd take my dick so good, Clarke.”

She whimpers and slides her hand around his neck, tangles her fingers in his curls and holds him close. He feels her breathing heavily, her nose buried in his hair, and they've never been this close. He feels her pulse hammering away against him where he's pressed against her neck. 

“ _ More _ ,” she pleads. “That's not enough, Bell. Give me more. Please.”

He can't even find the words to answer her, just pulls his finger out and slides back in with two. She moans and finds a way to hold him even closer. Bellamy can't even remember the sequence of events that led to this moment, to him lying on his side in Clarke's bed while she cradles him against her and he fucks her slowly with his fingers, but they're here and he's never wanted to be anywhere else more than he never wants to leave this place. And he's not even inside her yet.

“Fuck, Princess, you're so goddamn perfect. Listen to you,” he croons. 

He lets his fingers stroke her walls, his thumb slowly circle her clit. He focuses on the places where his touch makes her clench around him. He draws breathy moans and gasps from her and revels in the way she struggles to stay still beneath him. Her hand in his hair is so tight it hurts but he can't care, not when she's gasping and starting to flutter around him and he knows she's close. 

“Bellamy,” she says, her voice desperately high. 

“I know, babe. You're almost there, huh? You wanna come, Clarke? Let go, babe. Just let it go. You've been making all these gorgeous, sexy noises since I first got my hands on you. I wanna know what you sound like when you come apart on my hand.”

“Baby, I'm close. I’m so close. Don't stop, Bell. Don't stop.”

Each word comes out higher than the last and he urges her on, pressing down harder on her clit and crooking his fingers to reach that spot inside her. She comes with a gasp, her head thrown back and eyes closed as she clenches down on his fingers, her back arched off the bed. 

Bellamy presses butterfly kisses along her neck and jaw as he works her through the aftershocks, his fingers slow and gentle, coaxing every last second of pleasure out of her. Her pulse pounds against his lips as he watches her come down from her high, all soft and bright-eyed. 

“Bellamy,” she whispers, her voice filled with wonder. 

He nuzzles against her cheek. “Hi, Princess.”

“That was… wow.”

He chuckles, a little breathless. “A little sad you've been missing out?”

“Eager to make up for lost time.”

Her chest continues to rise and fall as she comes back to him, and eventually, she lets out a breathless laugh, her face breaking out into a grin and her eyes sparkling. Clarke looking completely blissed out and tired is his new favorite look on her, and he wants to be able to keep being the cause of it, but he doesn’t know where they stand. Instead of facing it, though, he smiles and chuckles happily along with her. 

Clarke cards her fingers through his hair and he hums happily, pressing closer against her side. She’s still completely clothed and if it wasn’t for her cries of pleasure forever ringing in his ears, he’d almost have a hard time believing that the entire thing wasn’t just a dream. But it wasn’t, and he’s still hard and aching beside her, needing release soon. Except he doesn’t want to wish her good night and head back to his room where he’ll jerk off to the taste of her still on his fingers. Instead, he wants to pull her against his chest and tangle his limbs with her until they both fall asleep. 

“Bell?” she asks quietly, her fingers still playing with his unruly curls.

“Hmmm?”

“Why didn’t you kiss me?”

He pulls back and sits up. He has no idea where the question is coming from and he needs to see her face because he can’t gauge at all from the sound of her voice alone how she feels about this. He hadn’t kissed her because he didn’t want to cross that line. She wanted to get off. He’d offered her help. They hadn’t discussed anything more than that. But what he finds when he looks at her is a look that’s almost closed off and distant. She’s sad, he realizes.

“Did you want me to?”

She bites her lip, and his heart stops. He wants her to say yes. He wants her to feel about him the way he feels about her. Bellamy realizes in that moment that he wants her, he  _ needs _ her.

“I thought you’d want to,” she whispers sadly. 

He nearly laughs because  _ of course _ he wants to. He’s wanted to from the moment he laid eyes on her. He just never knew that she wanted it, too. But just like before, he needs to be certain. He can’t let himself get carried away and distracted by love and attraction. He needs Clarke to say what she feels in order for him to decide how to act. So his answer is simple, open.

“Clarke, you’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to--”

She cuts him off with a soft laugh. “Friends don’t just get each other off, Bellamy,” she says, turning onto her side with her head on her arm to look up at him with those eyes that just won’t stop glowing.

He smiles like he’s never smiled in his life. “No, I guess they don’t.”

The first press of his lips to hers is soft and tentative, feeling her out, learning the way she moves and chases after him. But before he gets too comfortable, her hands fist into the front of his shirt and pull him down to her. Bellamy is only too happy to go. She makes this needy noise in the back of her throat and suddenly his hands are under her shirt, eager to commit her to memory as he touches every inch of skin he can. She pulls his off, and they’re back together before he can even catch his breath. 

Clarke kisses the same way she argues with him. She’s fierce and demanding, but gentle and coaxing at the same time, taking what she wants and convincing him to give it to her at the same time. Bellamy slides his hand under her knee and hikes her leg over his hip. He grinds down hard against her core and she moans, throwing her head back.

“Fuck, Bell, you’re so hard. Jesus, why didn’t you tell me?”

He moves his mouth back down to her neck, already knowing what to do to drive her crazy. “All about you, tonight, babe,” he tells her. “Don’t worry about me. Let’s take care of you, huh? You want another one?” He keeps up the steady drive of his hips against hers, and he’ll never admit how each word out of his mouth is a lie. He wants to focus on her, but he feels like he might explode if he doesn’t get inside her soon. Where he’d been soft and gentle through her first orgasm, he finds the need to be a bit rougher now, just a little bit dirtier. And if the sounds he’s drawing from her are anything to go by, he’s doing a good job. “Talk to me, babe. What do you want, huh? You want my mouth? Let me get my tongue inside that sweet little cunt of yours. Or my hands again? Tell me, baby. Tell me what you need.”

She stills and pulls him up to meet her eyes. “I want you. I want you, and I want your cock inside me. I’m ready, Bell. You’re driving me crazy grinding down on me like that, and I need to know if you feel that good when you’re inside me. Bellamy, I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.”

He drops his head to her shoulder and nips at the skin of her collarbone. “ _ Fuck, princess _ .”

“That’s hopefully the plan, yeah,” she says breathlessly. 

He laughs. “When did you get so damn cocky?”

His hands slide down her hips and he pulls her pants down her legs, tossing them into the corner. He can’t help himself when he finally sees her, pink and wet clenching down on nothing. He leans forward and licks a stripe the length of her slit and revels in the taste of her, in the gasp she makes as she cants her hips off the bed to follow his mouth as he pulls away. The taste of her fills him, takes over his senses, and he wants more. He ducks his head back down and pulls her labia into his mouth, tugging it gently between his teeth. 

“God damnit, Clarke,” he groans as he parts her lips with his thumbs, because this isn’t just about her anymore, it’s about him, too, and about how he’s wanted to taste her from the moment he realized he loved her as more than just a friend. 

She squirms above him as he laps at her cunt, his tongue pointed and diving in whenever he hears her start to get worked up. She’s squirming on the bed above him, and he can’t even think about anything beyond making her come again, beyond getting the taste of her climax on his tongue and licking it up greedily because if she only lets him have this one time, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take everything that he can get.

He licks over her clit and makes her scream with need. Clarke’s hand slides into his hair and twists into his curls to hold him against her. He hums darkly in satisfaction, because she might not know it, but she doesn’t need to hold on to him to keep him between her legs. He’d never leave if she’d let him take her like this whenever they wanted. Instead of telling her any of that, instead of telling her that he’s in love with her, he reaches up to find her spare hand and twines their fingers together. She grips his hand tightly, and he focuses on her clit, his tongue swirling around it and then flattening against it to give her the pressure she needs. 

At first, he doesn’t even notice that she’s started running her mouth, but then her words find him and he groans, sucking her clit into his mouth and grinding his hips down against the bed.

“Shit, Bellamy,” she whines. “Fuck, that’s so good.” Each word comes out on a sigh and he gets lost in the sound of her voice as it washes over him. “Jesus Christ you’re good at that.”

He smirks against her, feels her wet slick up his chin. “You like this, Clarke? Taste so fucking good.” He licks her again to prove his point. “Could stay down here all night. Just keep kissing this pretty cunt.”

She groans and thrusts her hips up, desperate for contact as she squeezes the fingers of his hand tight. “More,” she begs. “I need to come.”

“I know you do,” he croons. “Know you do, sweet thing. Wanna come with my fingers inside you again?”

“On your mouth, Bell,” she gasps, her hips still stuttering up and down to urge him back to where she needs him. 

He presses his thumb down hard on her clit and she gasps, her back arching off the bed. “Listen to you talk. ‘S the hottest thing that’s ever come out of that gorgeous mouth. Course I’m gonna put my mouth back on you. You want something inside you, too, though?”

He runs his fingers up and down her slit, parting her lips and coating his fingers in the arousal that drips from her opening so he’s ready when she says yes. Needy, whiny little noises escape her mouth as he moves closer and closer to her aching opening, already working and begging to fuck down onto something. He teases one finger around her tight cunt and Clarke keens, bucks her hips against his hand and Bellamy’s finger slides easily inside.

“More,” she cries. “Need more than one.”

“Course, babe,” he says, sliding in a second.

His mouth goes back to her clit, his tongue circling the swollen bundle of nerves as he crooks his fingers inside of her and searches for the spot that makes her keen. She’s warm and wet and already pulsing around him, and he’s so eager to make her come, so eager to hear her cry out his name again. He fucks his fingers in and out of her in time with the harsh slashes of his tongue he delivers to her clit until he hears her breaths quicken and her words turn into incomprehensible mumbles. He latches his mouth over her clit and sucks, hard, his fingers quickly scissoring inside of her to get her the stimulation she needs to stumble over the edge. 

Her body goes stock still for a fraction of a second before Clarke arches her back and let’s her orgams take her. Bellamy still his fingers, desperate to not overstimulate her while she grinds against his face, her cunt clenching onto his fingers like a vice as he slows her down with soft kitten licks.

“Shit, fuck! Bellamy!” she cries as he coaxes aftershock after aftershock out of her. “Don’t stop. Oh my god, don’t stop.”

“Easy, Clarke, easy,” he says softly. He releases her hand, his coming to her thigh and brushing soft circles against her skin with his thumb. “You’re good, babe.”

He moves back up her body as she catches her breath and runs his hands over her flushed skin. She’s spent and warm and perfect underneath his touch. 

“That was…” she tries, but can’t find the words.

Bellamy leans down and kisses her slowly, not demanding nor rushed, just an easy press of his mouth to her, their lips moving against each other’s. Clarke’s hands slide up his arms and wrap loosely around his neck. Bellamy cups her jaw, his thumb running against the column of her throat as he peppers her with kisses, pulling back slowly.

“Yeah,” he says, and he sounds breathless, too. And then, because he can’t hold it in any longer, not when she’s looking up at him like this, spent and eyes barely able to stay open, he says the words he’s been thinking since they started. “You’re more than just a one night stand for me.”

She blinks up at him, her eyes wide and confused even though her hands are still around his neck, her fingers still playing with his hair. “Bell?”

He ducks his head and presses a kiss to her clavicle so he doesn’t have to keep looking at her. “You’re more than just a one night stand,” he repeats. “Clarke, you’re my best friend, but I can’t keep pretending that that’s all you are to me. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I don’t remember ever not loving you. And I know that we’re doing this right now because I offered or because you said yes or whatever, and it doesn’t have to mean anything to you, but I need you to know that it does mean something to me.”

“Bellamy, I--”

“I shouldn’t have told you like this. I’m sorry, but I needed you to know.” He pulls back to look into her eyes, braced for her answer, and what he finds knocks the breath right out of his lungs. Clarke is looking up at him, her eyes soft and full of an emotion he doesn’t dare put a name to. “Please tell me you feel the same,” he whispers.

She pulls him down to her, finds his mouth and kisses him languorously. Her fingers tangle into his hair as she holds him close, and Bellamy lets himself melt against her, his hand sliding under her tank top to rest on her hip. 

“I do,” she whispers against his mouth. “I don’t have some eloquent speech to give you, in part because you just fucked all logical thought out of my mind, but I do love you, Bell.”

He laughs and ducks down to kiss her again. Bellamy gasps when he feels one of her hands slide down over his shoulder as she reaches down to cup him through his flannel pajama pants. He groans into her mouth and grinds his hips against her hand.

“I’ve got one or two more in me,” she tells him with a smile and a glint in her eye. “Let’s give you so attention, huh?”

“You’re a fucking menace,” he says with a smile. He pulls back so he can slide both hands under her top and pull it over her head. She’s eager to rid him of his pants, and he makes it easier by pulling away from her with a quick kiss to strip them off and toss them aside. “Condom?”

She nods and pulls out an unopened box from her bedside table. “Just in case,” she explains. 

Bellamy takes one from her and makes quick work of slipping it on, his hand jacking his dick twice to relieve some of the tension that’s been building. Clarke reaches out and replaces his hand with hers.

“Let me,” she offers, her voice a hoarse whisper. 

Bellamy closes his eyes as a shiver runs down his spine at her touch. “ _ Jesus, Clarke _ ,” he rasps. “Fuck, babe, you gotta stop or I’m gonna embarrass myself.” He pushes her hand away lightly and exhales with a shudder.

“You’re so… I didn’t think you’d be… it’s big,” she finally manages.

“We don’t have to--” he goes to say, but she cuts him off with a laugh.

“No. No, we have to. If you want to. But I’m too turned on to not need this right now.”

He chuckles lowly as his hands slide up her sides. “I want to, Princess. We’ll just take it slow, okay?”

She nods and meets his eyes, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “I want this, Bell. I want  _ you _ .”

He hovers over her and slides his cock between her folds, running it up and down her slit, coating it in her slick and getting her used to the feel of something other than fingers on her. She sighs and closes her eyes and Bellamy’s heart stutters. He cups her jaw and thumbs at her lower lip, opening her mouth to press a gentle kiss to her lips while he feels her quiver against the head of his dick, just barely pressing into her entrance. 

“ _ You have me _ ,” he promises, his mouth moving over hers as he speaks. 

She shuts her eyes and he feels her eyelashes flutter against his cheek when she tucks her face against the side of his. “I’m ready, Bell,” she sighs, and then she whispers just one more thing as he slips the first inch of his cock inside her tight opening. “I love you.”

She gasps and arches up against his chest, stilling, when he first enters her, and Bellamy worries that it might be too much. His arm bands around her back and holds her against him, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Breathe, Princess,” he whispers. “Just breathe through it. Stay with me.”

Her eyes open slowly and find his as she sucks in a breath. “Bell,” she whines.

“This okay? You okay? We don’t have to keep going.” His fingers keep brushing through her hair as she comes back to him.

“No. No. Don’t stop. Fuck, no. Feels so good,” she pants. 

He smirks down at her and kisses her, laying her back against the pillow and slipping his hand free to go squeeze her hip. “Thought I lost you there for a second.”

“You did,” she pants, still short of breath, and his muscles scream in pain at how still he’s being. He won’t move until she tells him to. “Shit.” Clarke giggles, and damn if he doesn’t fall more in love with her right then. “I think I was on some whole other plane of existence there for a minute. Oh, my god.”

He laughs, and it’s easy and warm. He loves getting to see Clarke like this, getting to be with her like this. Just because he can, he leans down and kisses her again. “You okay? You ready?”

She nods and swallows. “Yeah.” She closes her eyes and her breaths fan across his face as he inches his hips closer to hers, sliding into her without resistance but slowly enough to give her time to adjust. 

Clarke grips on to his shoulders, her hands running down his back and through his hair, just eager to touch him anywhere she can, to anchor herself to him and stay in the moment. He pets her hair and peppers her with kisses on her mouth, her nose, her cheek, her eyelids, anywhere he can reach. Clarke gasps and mewls the deeper he enters, and he can’t look away from her face.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, babe,” he whispers against her cheek. “So beautiful.”

She slides her hands into his hair and holds him to her as she hides her face against the side of his neck. “Why didn’t we do this any sooner?” she asks breathlessly. 

“You never asked,” he tells her honestly, his thumb brushing against the side of her breast.

“Was that all I had to do?” 

He wants to answer her, but before the words come out, he gives one final shift of his hips and bottoms out inside of her and Clarke sucks in a sharp breath, crying out as tears spring in the corner of her eyes.

“Clarke?” he asks, his voice high and filled with concern. 

“Shut up. Fuck. Holy fuck, that’s amazing. Jesus Christ. Holy shit.”

Bellamy tries to laugh at the string of profanities that keep tumbling past her lips, but he chokes on the sound. She’s warm and tight around him and all rational thought leaves him. She moves to dig her heel into his ass and it changes the angle, gets him in that much deeper and they both cry out.

“Move, Bell,” she begs, and she sounds like she’s close to tears. “Feels so goddamn good. Need to feel you move.”

He struggles to catch his breath and starts moving his hips, pulling out of her an inch and sliding back in. Clarke’s breath catches and she cries out with each thrust, the sound driving him to move faster. Her hands in his hair tighten into fists and she holds him against her neck. He can taste her sweat against her skin and breathes her in, her scent filling him as he drives back in to fill her.

“Faster,” she pants next to his ear. “More, Bell. Faster.”

Her heavy breasts press against his chest and he revels in the feeling of her pebbled nipples against his skin. He can only oblige her, only speed up his thrust as he chases his release. Her walls flutter around his dick, tightening her hold on him when he drives into her. He can feel her eager clench, her need to keep him inside of her.

“You’re close,” he tells her, his hand slipping between their bodies to thumb at her clit. “Come for me, babe. Let me feel you come on my cock.”

“I’m so--” Clarke cries out again when he thrusts into her and circles his hips. “Shit. Fuck. I’m so close. I’m gonna come, Bell.”

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he pants against the skin of her neck. “That’s it. Come for me. Let it go, Clarke.”

She’s loud when he gives her her third orgasm, louder than he imagined her being. Her cries fill the room and Bellamy’s rhythm falters and the snap of his hips quickens as he chases his own release, so ready to join her in bliss. 

“Bellamy,” she whines, and it’s what does it for him.

He groans, his head falling to her shoulder as his world goes white and he feels his dick pulse, his cum spilling into the latex that separates him and Clarke. When he finally regains control of his senses, he’s slumped on top of Clarke, his sweaty hair plastered to his forehead as Clarke pushes it back from his face and makes these soothing noises right by his ear.

“Shit,” he says on an exhale, his head falling to her chest, pillowed by her breasts. Clarke cards her fingers through his hair while he catches his breath. He closes his eyes and listens to her heart pounding in her chest while it rises and falls with her breathing. “Clarke…”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” she tells him, sounding sad and withdrawn even if her hands are still in his hair. “If you want to take it back, I mean. I know sometimes we get carried away and say things and--”

He cuts her off when he jerks his head up. She’s giving him an easy out. She’s ready to pretend like nothing’s changed even though his entire world is upside down now if that’s what she wants.

“I love you,” he tells her, his eyes staring into her. He slides out of her and slips off the condom, tossing it into the trash by her bed. “Clarke,” he says when he’s back to kneeling on the bed beside her. “I didn’t get carried away. I meant it.” He wants to reach out and touch her, but doesn’t know if she’s giving him an out because she needs one or because she’s afraid he’s going to regret it. He needs her to know that he doesn’t. “I meant all of it, sex or no sex. I love you, Princess.” He lets out a laugh. “Shit, I’m pretty sure I’m  _ in _ love with you. But if you need this to not mean anything, I can give you that. We can forget that any of this ever happened.”

“No,” she rushes out. “No. I don’t want that. I want you.” Clarke reaches her arms out to him and he lies back down, pulling her into a tight embrace, their legs tangling together. “I want you.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Me, too.”

“Will you stay with me tonight?” she asks.

The sweat drying on his skin makes him shiver and pull her closer. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Come get cleaned up, first. But then, yeah. I’ll stay with you as long as you want.”

“Be careful what you offer. I might not let you go,” she says and angles her head up for a kiss.

He gives her one, slow and exploring, his hands sliding up her arms and holding her to him. Clarke sighs against his lips and her hands find his hair. Yeah. He’ll stay with her forever if that’s what she wants.

**Author's Note:**

> let's be friends! I'm on [Tumblr!](www.youleftme-clarke.tumblr.com/)


End file.
